


Mind, Body & Soul

by Kinkychickenmasseur



Category: Heroes (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Bondage, Butt Plugs, Caning, Choking, Crying, Dirty Talk, Domestic Servitude, Dubious Consent, F/M, Face Slapping, Filming, Flogging, Forced Masturbation, Gun Kink, Humiliation, Impact Play, Knifeplay, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Paddling, Rough Sex, Self-Bondage, Sex Toys, Spanking, Watersports, body control
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-03-28 19:37:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3867295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kinkychickenmasseur/pseuds/Kinkychickenmasseur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sylar has finally come for Claire's power. This is the one he has been waiting for - immortality. He has bided his time and now that he has her trapped alone in her house, he is going to savour taking it from her.</p><p>Huge deviations from canon as an excuse for filth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The seconds ticked away in the darkness as Sylar patiently waited. He was calm, strong and ready. He’d waited a long time for this opportunity. Taking powers had become a routine for him. The more powers he collected, the easier it became for him to overpower those standing in his way. 

But this power, this was special. She was special. She would make him immortal and he wanted to savour it, to enjoy poring through the complexities of her amazing ability and making it his own; to control and own every part of what made her tick. 

He had been observing the house for several weeks, keeping an eye on the family. Tonight Claire would have the house to herself. Noah was away with business, his wife was spending the evening with friends and their son wouldn’t be back from soccer practice until much later tonight. Plenty of time to take what he wanted.

So there he waited, a silhouette in the darkness, his head down and cap pulled low over his eyes, waiting as the clock ticked away the seconds. 

He didn’t react as he heard keys in the lock and watched silently as she entered the house. There was a click as she flicked the light switch and made her way into the sitting room. He heard her round the corner, heard the intake of breath and the bag drop to the floor before calmly raising his head.

“Hello Claire.”

She was frozen to the spot in terror.

“You’re him! You’re…”

“The man who’s been trying to kill you. You’ve got me all wrong, Claire.” 

He spoke with a genuine innocence to his voice as he cautiously advanced across the room towards her, hands held high.

“I don’t want to hurt you. I just need to know how you work.”

She turned and ran towards the door, but it was already too late. With a twist of his hand Sylar sealed the door shut and began advancing on her. She ran around the stairs towards the back door in the kitchen as Sylar secured it, continuing to calmly advance upon her. 

In the kitchen Claire hurled herself against the back door, but nothing would budge. Desperately she tried the windows but they too had been sealed. She looked around and her eyes met a knife, glistening on the table in the dull gray light. She grabbed it and headed back down the corridor. He was waiting, blocking the stairs, so she ran back through into the living room. 

 

Sylar followed and cornered her. There was nowhere left to go. They stood, eyes locked, knife shining in Claire’s hand. With a deep breath she began to run towards him, brandishing her weapon. He didn’t even flinch, but lightly pushed forwards with his open palm.

A huge tidal wave of energy burst towards her, knocking the knife from her hand and throwing her up against the wall. Sylar ripped the handles from the dresser and, with an arrogant smile and flick of his finger, sent them flying towards her wrists. They buried deep into the wall, cutting into her skin and pinning her against the wall. She cried out in pain and frustration and she struggled tried to free herself, but she was stuck. 

Sylar grinned as he sauntered across the room towards her, his eyes piercing, never wavering from his pray. 

“There’s no escape this time Claire-Bear. Daddy’s not here to save you. It’s just you and me.”

As he approached, he placed a hand on either side of her head. She stared into his eyes with hatred in her eyes. Once again his face contorted with his arrogant grin. Claire struggled again as he leant in to whisper in her ear.

“I’ve been waiting for this for a long time, Claire. I’ve collected so many powers, but yours is the one I’ve been waiting for. You’re special. The girl who can’t be killed; immortal, and soon, I will be too.”

“You can’t take it.” Claire struggled. “You can’t take my power, I won’t let you.”

“You don’t have a lot of choice.” Sylar laughed. He leant in very close with danger in his voice. “You don’t have a lot of bargaining power right now. I’ve got you just where I want you!”

His fingers traced the outline of her arm, running up across her shoulder towards her neck. She broke her gaze with him and closed her eyes, turning her head away. 

“You’re all mine.”

His hand tightened around her throat and she let out a whimper. He too closed his eyes to fully enjoy the sound as he squeezed a little harder. Claire’s whole body convulsed as a moan escaped her. 

Sylar was taken aback. He released her neck and took a step away from her. She managed to glance at his expression before bowing her head, her face burning. Overcoming his initial shock, Sylar let out a chuckle.

“What was that?” he asked with amusement. 

She turned her head away in shame, but he roughly grabbed her cheeks and swung her face around to face his.

“I asked you a question. What was that?”

“Go to hell,” Claire growled through gritted teeth. 

“Looks like somebody likes it rough…”

She spat into his smug face with defiance in her eyes, every muscle in her body fighting against her restraints. Sylar calmly wiped his face, and then in a flash his hand was around her neck once again. Her body betrayed her, arching into his touch. Her breathing was deep and heavy as he leant in to her ear. 

“You want this, Claire. You can lie all you want to, but I can feel it.”

He slipped a hand down her skirt and she softly moaned as his fingers grazed lightly across her dripping wet pussy. Her skin prickled with embarrassment. He began to remove his hand and her pelvis involuntarily pushed forward, wanting more. He laughed as he lightly caressed her face.

“Tell me you want me to fuck you.”

“Get off me, you asshole!” Claire spat at him, struggling once again, her eyes welling up with frustration. 

“Come on now, be a good little girl for me or I’ll have to discipline you.”

SMACK. He slapped her firmly across the face. It left her weak at the knees. 

“I… You…”

Her head was spinning in a haze of hatred and lust. She couldn’t think straight, all that was filling her head was how much she wanted –no, needed - to be touched and slapped and fucked right now. She risked a glance at Sylar, who just smiled back with that evil knowing smile. With another casual flick of his fingers, Sylar released her shackles and she fell to her knees. He dragged her to the centre of the room by her hair and began circling around her.

“I came here to take your power, Claire, but how things change. You intrigue me. I want so much more. I’m going to take your mind and your body too. I’m going to make them mine.”

“Fuck you,” Claire managed to slur in her semi-conscious state, still woozy.

“I’m sorry?”

“Fuck you!”

She stumbled to her feet and began to make a swing for Sylar. He clicked his fingers and in an instant she was frozen. Her muscles were locked into place, with only her mouth and eyes remaining under her control. 

“Agh, what the hell?”

She couldn’t struggle against it; she was locked into place, paralyzed with no control over her own body. Sylar laughed as he approached her from behind. 

“A new power of mine I picked up from a friend of yours, Mr Doyle…”

Claire’s heart began to race! She had encountered Eric Doyle in the past and it had been a thoroughly unpleasant experience.

“I told you I would take control of your body… And I think I’ve already got inside your mind,” Sylar whispered into her ear as he swept aside her hair and gently kissed her neck. “You’re imagining all the things I could do to you in such a vulnerable state. I wonder if your imagination is as good as mine…”

Suddenly she felt her arm begin to move towards her chest. Sylar continued to kiss her and she closed her eyes as he ran her hand gently down over the curves of her body and into her panties. She let out a gentle moan as he curved her fingers around. He teased the lips of her pussy before plunging her fingers deep into her soft moist folds and massaging her clit. Every inch of her body wanted to move, for her back to arch and chest to heave but she was frozen solid, which only intensified the sensation. All she could think about was the waves of pleasure, relief at finally touching herself. 

She began to moan more intensely, much to Sylar’s enjoyment. She felt a twitch in his crotch, pressed up against her ass as he continued to kiss her neck. Then in a second her hand stopped and retracted from her skirt as Sylar roughly pulled on her hair. Her head flew back exposing her neck. 

“No, please…” she began, before catching and silencing herself. Her skin burned with shame as Sylar laughed. 

“Please what, you little whore?” He wiped her hands across her face. She was humiliated, but the smell of sex only intensified the feeling of lust building inside her. Every fiber of her being longed to move, to wiggle, for some sensation to overtake the burning need between her legs, but there was no relief. 

“I want to see if you’re worthy of my time. Let’s see what you can do…”

Claire felt her legs give way as she knelt to the floor. Sylar circled round to stand in front of her, his bulging crotch directly in front of her face. He moved her hair so that she was pressed against his waistband. She felt the cool metal of the buckle pressed against her still burning face, smelled the leather of his belt.

“Use your mouth,” he commanded.

“Ugh, fuck you!” Claire screamed in breathy frustration. 

“You know you want to,” Sylar smiled. “And if you do a good job and I’ll be sure to return the favor. I know how wet that pussy of yours is. You’d do anything to come right now.”

“Not that.” She looked up at him again with hatred in her eyes.

“Maybe you need a little more persuasion…”

Claire felt her hand begin to move once again, up to Sylar’s hip and around his waist, resting upon a metal handle tucked into the back of his jeans. Her heart stopped and her eyes filled with fear, much to Sylar’s enjoyment. She could feel a twitch against her face, still pressed up against his denim-clad cock. 

“This should help to convince you.”

Her fingers gripped the handle and pulled the gun out of his jeans. His eyes never left her face, enjoying every second as he guided the gun into place against her temple. 

“You can’t…” she whimpered.

“Oh I can, and I am, now be a good little cock-sucking whore or I’ll pull the trigger.”

“You can’t kill me!”

“That’s true, Claire, I can’t. But I can make it really fucking hurt!” He laughed lightly. “And who knows what state your mind will be in after it’s been blown into a million pieces. You have no choice. Now take that pretty little mouth of yours and put it to use.”

There was nothing she could do. With one last defiant look at Sylar she began to pull roughly at his belt with her teeth. 

“Gently, Claire-Bear,” Sylar cooed, stroking her hair. “Have patience, I’ll be fucking the back of your throat soon enough.”

The barrel of the gun was up against her temple, leaving marks in her skin. She pulled open his belt and began to undo his jeans. She could feel him straining against the material. Once more she desperately tried to regain control of her paralyzed body, but it was no use. She finally pulled down his jeans and then peeled his boxers back to reveal his hard cock.

“Like what you see, Claire?” Sylar asked, rubbing his cock against her face and leaving a trail of precum across her cheek to mix with her own wetness. He grabbed her hair and pulled her head back to face him. “Open wide.”

As he said it, she felt the gun press deeper into her temple. The rush of hate and lust was almost unbearable. She fought back tears as she opened her mouth to take him. He thrust deep into her mouth, filling her, gagging her with his cock. Instinct overtook her as she ran her tongue up his shaft and sensually circled the head of his penis before it rammed deep into the back of her throat once again. She held back urge to gag as he thrust into her. She could taste him, precum and sweat all over her tongue as she took him once again, powerless to pull back, to resist. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, and flew in and out of consciousness as he pounded her mouth deeper and deeper.

He pulled out and she gasped for air, saliva dripping out of her mouth and over her chest. He ripped open her soaking wet t-shirt, exposing her breasts. He grabbed her cheeks again and roughly tilted her face up to meet his gaze.

“More?” he asked.

She couldn’t think and knelt, head spinning. SMACK. Sylar slapped her hard across the face, snapping her back into reality. 

“I asked you a question, whore!”

“Yes… More…” she whimpered.

Sylar grinned. “Ask me again, but beg for it, you worthless little cunt. Beg for my cock and call me sir!” He leant in close and whispered, “Do you want more?”

“Yes sir, I want more, please sir!”

“More what?”

“I want you to fuck my mouth,” she begged.

“I’m not convinced.” 

Claire felt her fingers firmly grip the gun, still pressing painfully against her forehead. Her thumb lifted and slowly pulled back the hammer with a terrifying click. She felt the pressure of her finger tighten on the trigger.

“I want you to fuck my mouth,” she begged with tears in her eyes. “I want your cock. I want you to use me, to fuck me, please sir, I’ll do anything.”

“That’s better,” whispered Sylar smugly before pushing her head back down onto his shaft. Tears began streaming down her face as the head of his cock pummeled against the back of her throat. Sweat and tears and spit dripped down onto her exposed tits. She would give anything now to touch herself, release a little of the unbearable tension. The seconds ticked by and she felt herself becoming light headed once again, needing air, needing to breathe but unable to move. Just as she felt she was about to black out, Sylar pulled out once again. A wave of sensation returned to her body as Sylar released her from his body control and she fell to the ground, dropping the gun. 

“Take off your clothes,” he said in a calm but commanding voice as he picked up the weapon. The words barely sank through into Claire’s conciousness.

“NOW!” he shouted. 

Claire faded back into the room and looked to see that she was staring down the barrel of the gun. 

“Yes sir.” She scrambled on the floor to remove her skirt and torn shirt, wiping the remains of the fabric across her face to try and regain some dignity. 

“Stand up and turn around. And don’t you dare look me in the eyes without permission!”

She stood before him, eyes glued to the floor as he removed his belt and used it to bind her hands behind her back. She let out a moan as he grabbed her hair and whispered closely into her ear. 

“Do you want me to fuck you now, Claire?”

“Yes please sir!” she whispered back.

“Then tell me, who do you belong to?”

She closed her eyes and swallowed what little pride she had left. “I belong to you, sir.”

“All of you?”

“Yes sir, my mind and body are yours to take. Just please fuck me sir, please.”

Sylar leant ever closer with a smile.

“And what about your power?”

“Take it sir, I am yours, just please fuck me sir, please, I need your cock.”

Sylar laughed as he marched her across the room, dragging her by the hair and threw her down over the arm of the couch. She laid there, her sodden face buried in the cushions and her ass and dripping wet cunt exposed, legs dangling down over the end of the couch. She couldn’t see what was happening, but heard him drop his trousers. There was a rip as he tore open the crotch of her panties. His hands traced the curve of her butt before resting on her hips. Then he was inside her, filling her with his cock. His nails dug painfully into her skin as he gripped onto her waist, fucking her hard and deep. She moaned and screamed uncontrollably as he effortlessly slipped in and out of her, pushing his cock deeper and deeper inside of her. 

“Shh, you’re such a loud whore, aren’t you?” Sylar taunted. “We don’t want the neighbours to hear.”

He tore off the remains of her panties and shoved them into her mouth, never breaking the relentless rhythm of his pounding. Her face and tits rubbed against the rough material of the sofa, her arms ached as the belt pulled them back and Sylar’s fingernails dug deep into her skin, but all of this was masked by the waves of pleasure from her cunt. Her dull moans emanated from behind her gag as he fucked her. 

Sylar finally released his grip on her hips, picking her up by her bound hands, nearly ripping her arms out of their sockets, and throwing her onto her back. 

“Look at me,” he commanded as he entered her once again, one hand resting on her pelvis, the other finding a tight grip around her throat. She met him with a broken and submissive gaze, which only intensified his relentless fucking. He pushed back against her neck causing her to nearly black out once again. The thumb of his other hand slipped between her legs and began to massage her clit. Claire’s breathing quickened and her moans became ever more urgent and intense as her eyes rolled back into her head. 

SMACK. Sylar removed his hand from her neck and once again slapped her across the face, adding to the welts on her cheek. 

“Don’t you dare think about coming without my permission, slut. Your cunt belongs to me!” 

Claire gave a muffled response through her gag. “Yes Sir, please sir, may I come?” 

Sylar slowed his pace, leant in to her ear, a flash of evil in his eyes, and whispered one word. 

“No.”

Claire moaned, desperately trying to hold back her orgasm. 

“Please sir, please.”

He pulled out of her and threw her to the floor, still begging.

“Please, sir, please.”

“On your knees, whore.”

As Claire scrambled to her knees with the last of her strength, Sylar grabbed his cock and pulled her head close to his crotch once again. 

“First you can take my come, then maybe I’ll allow you to finish.”

Sylar fished the panties from Claire’s mouth and grabbed her by the hair once again. 

“Open your mouth and look at me!”

Claire stared up at him, helpless, broken, mouth open ready to receive his load as Sylar worked his shaft. He let out a moan as hot come erupted, spurt after spurt all over her face. It dripped down into her open mouth and off her chin onto her naked body. He offered her his dripping cock and she gratefully sucked up the remaining jizz. 

“Lick it clean,” Sylar commanded.

Claire raised herself up onto her knees and thoroughly licked every last drop of come and pussy juice from his cock and balls. Sylar gently stroked her hair.

“Very good girl.”

“Thank you sir, please may I come?”

Sylar did not answer straight away, his mind seemed to tick for a second before his eyes told her it had landed on some suitably sadistic thought. He circled around to the back of her and removed his belt from her hands. 

“Get on your hands and knees,” he commanded.

She immediately did.

“Listen very closely, I will allow you to come but only while I beat your whore ass with my belt, you filthy cumslut. You will count and thank me for each hit, do you understand?”

“Yes sir, thank you sir,” Claire responded with pathetic acceptance of her fate. Her face was still stinging from his slaps, and covered with his come. Her heart pounded with humiliation but oh god, she needed to come so much. 

“Touch yourself.”

Claire moaned as she finally began to stimulate herself, her back arched helplessly and her legs shook as pleasure began to build inside her. Then suddenly SMACK! The belt hit across both cheeks. She cried out in pain, then came another. SMACK!

“What do you say, whore?”

“Oh God! One, thank you sir. Ah!”

SMACK.

“Two, thank you sir.”

“Do you want more?” he asked.

“Oh god yes, please, more sir. Make my ass bleed if you want to.”

SMACK.

“Agh, three, thank you sir.”

Claire was so close now, with every whack of the belt the indistinguishable mixture of pleasure and pain increased to an unbearable level. Her pussy and ass burned in equal measure and she so desperately needed to come.

SMACK.

“Four, thank you sir. Please sir, please may I come?”

SMACK.

“Ah, five, thank you sir. Please sir…”

“Come for me,” Sylar finally answered her.

All that built up tension overwhelmed Claire, and she screamed out in pleasure as wave after wave of intense orgasm washed over her. She collapsed to the ground, her body shaking and convulsing with the intensity of the sensation. 

There was a moment of calm, glow of post orgasm mixed with the pleasant sting of the welts on her ass as Claire laid in a heap of sweat and come. 

Sylar observed her for a minute or two from above before sitting on the floor beside her and resting her head onto his lap, stroking her hair tenderly.

“What do you say?”

“Thank you, sir” she managed to whisper. 

“Good girl,” he whispered back.

They sat there for what felt like hours to Claire, come dripping over her exhausted naked body. 

“You’re all mine,” cooed Sylar.

“Yes.” 

“Good!” Without warning, Sylar’s arm was around her throat once again, holding her in place as she struggled. 

“Then time to get what I came for…”

Claire fought against him but her strength was gone; she was held in place. Sylar raised his finger up to her forehead and began to cut.


	2. Chapter 2

Claire hadn’t told anybody about what happened that night. She couldn’t bring herself to. She couldn’t even imagine the words she might use to describe what happened without her throat beginning to dry up. 

She had laid there for what seemed like hours after he had left, a naked mess on the floor, blood dripping down her face from the gash across her forehead. It had healed within minutes but she was left drained. Finally she had managed to drag herself to her feet and clean up the sitting room as best she could. Her mother always kept it immaculate and it was damned near impossible to remove all evidence of what had happened. Every time her mother asked about a scratch on the furniture or a stain on the couch, her heart would begin to race as she garbled some half plausible excuse.

And every time she closed her eyes, there he was. His stare - that arrogant stare with an evil knowing smile - as he owned every part of her. She couldn’t think straight any more. It was like everything in her brain had been replaced with him, all need in her had been replaced by the need to be owned by him once again. To be fucked and used and come as hard as she had that night, on her hands and knees with the leather belt stinging against her bare ass. 

Whenever she found herself alone the temptation to touch herself would be too great to resist. She found herself spending her breaks at college locked in a cubicle, legs spread and panties around her ankles with socks stuffed into her mouth to muffle the moans of her intense orgasms as she ran over and over every detail of that night. 

And each time she emerged, thoughts crept into her head that everybody knew exactly what a whore she had become to her own desires. It felt like every pair of eyes that met hers could see through her fragile façade and knew exactly what she had done. Every whispered comment could be a rumor about her new insatiable need for bathroom breaks several times a day.

Her grades had started slipping too. She had missed three pieces of coursework in the last week alone. She just couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t get her mind in order. She just kept thinking about him, about his voice and his hands all over her body and his glorious cock and…

“Claire Bennet!”

She sat upright at her desk. The voice had been that of her literature teacher, Professor Jones. He held a pile of papers under his arm and had his hand outstretched towards her. She glanced around to see that everyone in the room was looking at her. The jocks at the back of the room sniggered and grinned stupidly.

“Yes, sir! I mean Professor,” she garbled, her face turning bright red.

“Your assignment?”

“I… um… Oh, was that due today?”

The professor shook his head.

“What on earth has happened to you over the last three weeks? If you can’t complete assignments at home you’ll have to do your work in detention instead.”

“Yes sir, Professor. Sorry.” 

There was more sniggering at the back of the room as she stumbled over her words once again. She hung her head. Her parents would find out about this. They were already asking questions - how was she going to explain this one?

The day ticked away agonizingly slowly for Claire. She tried her hardest to concentrate, to distract herself with work, food, friends, anything she could. But nothing could get her head out of the haze of lust she was stuck in. This was agony, and there was nothing she could do. She was sure he knew what he had done to her, that he was laughing about this somewhere, and that thought made her want him even more…

As the final bell rang, Claire headed over to the other side of campus for detention, walking against the flow of students heading away from the buildings. By the time she arrived the place was deserted. 

She knocked on the door of Professor Jones’ office. The sound echoed around the empty corridor but there was no reply. She tried again but once more was met with no signs of life, just eerie silence, broken only by the ticking of a distant clock. Claire placed her hand on the door and began to push it open.

“Ah, there you are!”

The voice startled her; she turned to see the Professor emerging from a dark corridor. 

“Sorry Professor, I was just…”

“Oh no problem, Claire. You’re here now and there’s a lot of catching up to do so let’s make a start. I’m not going to go easy on you this time.”

Something wicked flashed across the professor’s eyes and he tried to hide a slight smile. Claire was suddenly filled with the feeling that something was wrong. 

“Everything okay, Claire?” asked the professor as he advanced further out of the shadows towards her. 

Her heart rate was speeding up, and she suddenly felt incredibly vulnerable, standing in the dingy corridor of the now deserted school. In the silence she could hear nothing but the constant ticking, and she was pretty sure nobody could hear her. 

“I have to go,” she blurted out, she stood for a second, eyes locked with his and noticed one of his eyebrows twitch. She turned and began to walk away. 

“Wait, where are you going? Come back,” he shouted, a subtly mocking tone in his voice.

Claire kept on walking. She could hear the urgent footsteps behind her beginning to quicken, and she started to run. She dashed through the dark, locker-lined corridors towards the exit. The professor was managing to keep up with her as she sprinted. He was close behind her but she knew she could make it. She rounded the corner and the door was right there in front of her. If she could just make it outside, she was only thirty meters away… She ran forward and was just a few paces away when the doors slammed shut. She desperately reached for the handle, but it was too late. A loud metallic click echoed down the corridor as they were locked in front of her. She stood with her arms against the door, desperately pushing against them as she panted for breath. 

She heard his footsteps approaching, rounding the corner and calmly walking towards her. He had no need to run any more - he had her cornered. She stepped back, not daring to turn but staring desperately at the locked exit. It was filled by the professor’s shadow, a shadow that began to move. The clicking of feet on floor tiles became lighter as the shadow grew thinner and taller. Claire’s heart skipped a beat as she watched it transform into a silhouette she recognized all too well.

“Hello, Claire.”

She turned to see Sylar towering over her, a malicious grin filling his face. 

“Ready to play some more?”

In a heartbeat he was before her, one hand firmly around her throat, the other tenderly stroking her hair as he whispered into her ear.

“Have you missed me, my fucktoy?” 

Claire was once again helpless; the strong fingers pressing against her throat drained her of any physical resistance. 

“I’ve missed you. I can’t stop thinking about what a little whore you were for me the other night. So eager to please, so good at following instructions, such an obedient cum-slut. Are you ready to be used again?” 

The words filtered into Claire’s lust-addled brain - there was nothing but his voice, the voice which had been stuck in her head for three agonising weeks. She made a vain attempt to pull free from his grip, but this only caused Sylar to increase the pressure on her neck until she gasped.

“I said are you ready to be used again?”

He moved his head away from her ear to look her dead in the eyes. That smug fucking smile was on his face. Knowing that he had full control over her desire… She hated him. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. She shook her head as defiantly as she could and spit in his face. 

“No?” he laughed, wiping his face. “Baby Claire-Bear doesn’t want me to fuck with her any more?” he pouted. 

In a single movement he slid his hand down into her panties and began to massage her pussy. She instantly melted, all defiance lost in her lust. 

“I think your eager, dripping little cunt disagrees,” he whispered into her ear as she whimpered uncontrollably at his touch. He hoisted her over his shoulder and headed towards a classroom door, breaking it down in an explosion of splintered shards with a flick of his hand. Claire lay helpless across his shoulder as they entered. Sylar headed for the large teachers desk at the front of the room, scattering its contents across the room and throwing her down onto it. 

“You’ve been a very bad girl, Claire. All those filthy thoughts you’ve been having, and the dreams! Disgusting, and I’ve seen every one of them.” 

Claire tried to move from the desk but Sylar’s hand was around her neck once again, lightly choking her while holding her down. 

“I’ve been keeping an eye on you, Claire, and I must say I’m very disappointed. You must be punished for having such a filthy mind. Stand up!” 

He released his grip on her neck and she stumbled to her feet. Sylar roughly grabbed her hair and forced her down onto the desk face first, her legs still planted on the floor. He gripped her hair, holding her face down pressed against the wooden surface. 

“So much fantasizing, so much time spent touching yourself in those filthy bathrooms. You must learn some self-control. Lift up your skirt.”

“Sorry sir, yes sir.” 

There was no fight, no defiance left in Claire. Three weeks of fantasizing about this moment had stripped that away and left her yearning for the punishment she knew was in store. She reached back with both hands and lifted up her skirt to reveal her ass. Sylar smiled and circled around to search the drawers at the back of the desk, returning with a long wooden ruler. 

“So, how many spanks do you think you deserve, you little whore?”

He grabbed her hair and roughly pulled back her head as his other hand ripped off her panties.

“I don’t know, sir?”

“Well have a guess, but be careful, because if you say a number which is less than the one I have in mind… I’ll double it.”

Claire could hear his voice ringing with the sadistic pleasure he was getting out of this. Her mind wanted to defy him, to not give him the satisfaction of her complete submission, but she found herself unable to resist. 

“Twenty, sir?” she answered in a defeated voice.

Sylar grinned. “I had ten in mind, but if you insist, my pet. Start counting!”

SMACK! Claire almost screamed at the first hit. The ruler had none of the softness of the leather. It was thin and solid and it hurt. She moaned loudly as the sting across her ass only intensified the insatiable longing in her cunt. 

“One,” she managed to whisper before he swung once again. SMACK. 

“Two.”

SMACK.

“Three, oh god!”

Sylar continued, striking her again and again. Seven, eight, nine, ten! He paused, watching the welts on her ass heal before his eyes.

“Such a shame that I can’t mark your skin, Claire. It’s an amazing ability you gave me, and I’ve been thoroughly enjoying it. You see, I see things differently to other people. The way these powers work, it’s like cogs in a watch, a perfect balance that keeps everything ticking, makes the impossible happen.” He paused as he crouched down, bringing himself face to face with her.

“You said I couldn’t take away your ability, and that is true. But if you know how a watch works, you know how to stop it from working…”

“What?” Claire looked suddenly terrified. He tenderly stroked her face.

“Shh now, I’ll put you back together once I’m finished with you.”

She tried to move but found herself paralyzed once again, held in place by the body control. 

“Don’t struggle, it’ll only make thing worse,” he whispered. He closed his eyes in concentration and pressed his fingers up to her temples. She felt a tingle like pins and needles wave through her whole body peaking for a second before subsiding again. 

“There, now let’s see if this makes things a little more interesting. Keep counting.”

SMACK.

This time Claire couldn’t hold it back. She screamed out with tears in her eyes as the pain ripped through her body. Her fists pulled at her skirt as her body desperately tried to move away from the source of the pain. 

SMACK.

“Count, you stupid bitch!”

SMACK.

“Agh, sorry sir, eleven.” Her voice broke as she tried to keep counting. 

SMACK.

“Twelve.”

SMACK.

“Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen!” The pain was growing so much more intense now that she was no longer healing. Welts were forming upon welts as Sylar relentlessly whipped her. 

“Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen!” Tears began streaming down her face - she was helpless, leant over with her ass stuck up in the air. Red welts were beginning to turn purple as vicious bruises formed across her cheeks. She burned with shame as she felt herself pushing her pelvis down towards the desk, desperately trying to find some relief for her pussy. The pain was intense but her need to come was greater. She tried to move a hand down between her legs but Sylar roughly grabbed it.

“All in good time,” he whispered to her, moving it firmly back to her skirt. 

The final two were the hardest. Sylar swung with his entire body, cutting the ruler deep into her skin, the wood splintering with the force of the hits.

“Nineteen, t…t…twenty,” sobbed Claire. 

“Well done, my little whore,” he said softly as he firmly pulled her up by the hair and embraced her. She grabbed onto his strong arms and sobbed into his shoulder. 

“Are you ready to come now?”

“Yes sir, please sir.”

“Would you like me to fuck you?”

“Oh god, yes, oh please fuck me sir.”

“Beg me.”

“Please sir, please fuck me, I need to come sir, I’ll do anything. You can beat me again, just please fuck me,” she begged. 

“Turn around. I want a good view of my handiwork.”

She turned around and Sylar bent her forwards to stand with her legs apart and hands resting on the desk. He pulled off his belt and wrapped it around her neck, keeping hold of it.

“I think I’ll keep you on a leash to remind you what a little bitch you are.”

He pulled gently on the belt, tightening the makeshift collar around her neck, forcing her to arch her back. She whimpered at the pleasure and pain as he slipped inside her dripping cunt, roughly grabbing her tender ass. Slowly but firmly he began to thrust, his cock filling her so entirely, the pleasure mixing euphorically with the intense stinging of her tortured cheeks. 

He began to speed up, his hips slapping against her bruises. She moaned and whimpered and gasped as he sharply tugged the belt, making her choke, lose focus, pulling her out of the world, into a state of pure sensation. It was just her, and the stinging and his cock. And she needed to be used more than ever. She needed more.

“Please fuck me harder,” she blurted as the thoughts tumbled out of her unguarded mouth. He pulled harder on the belt, her head flying back and her hands springing up to her throat as she tried to breathe. 

“Please fuck me harder, what?”

He was enjoying this; she could hear the smile in his voice behind the cold danger. He released his grip and allowed her to take a breath before she answered.

“Please fuck me harder, sir.”

“That’s better.”

He released the belt, grabbing her hips, digging into her skin as he thrust harder and deeper than ever before. She moaned loudly as he fucked her with the full extent of his shaft. 

“I’m surprised I fit into that tight little cheerleader pussy,” he mocked between pants as he furiously fucked her. Her arms gave way and she collapsed onto the desk once again as he relentlessly pounded her. She was so close to the edge now - she couldn’t hold it any longer. 

“Please sir, may I come? Please…” she whimpered.

“Absolutely not,” Sylar mocked.

“I can’t hold it sir, I need to come, please.”

“Well, you need to learn some self control.” 

He pulled out of her, leaving her to fall to her knees next to the desk. 

“No, please sir, please.”

She instinctively reached for her pussy. She was quick but he was quicker, grabbing her hand and pulling it away. She tried to resist but he was so much stronger. She looked up helplessly. 

“I’ve not finished playing with you yet. Strip…NOW.”

She began to frantically remove her shoes and socks. Her fingers shook as she tried to unzip her skirt. Sylar grabbed hold of her t-shirt and ripped it off, tying it around her eyes as she managed to finally take off her skirt and pull off her bra. He could feel his eyes looking down on her as she lay there fully exposed. 

He picked her up and placed her on the desk. She lay back, the cool surface mildly relieving her burning welts. 

“Hold your hands above your head, and no coming without my permission,” he commanded.

“Yes sir,” she managed to breathily reply as she raised her arms up to rest on the desk above her head. Sylar used a piece of electrical cord ripped from the wall to bind her hands. He grabbed her hips and pulled her to the edge of the desk, spreading her legs. She tried to calm her breathing as she laid there, bound, blinded and helpless, her glistening pussy ready and waiting to be fucked. 

“Who do you belong to, Claire?” he whispered.

“You, sir.”

“Are you willing to prove it?”

“Yes sir, just please let me come,” Claire pathetically begged. 

“Good girl. Now listen very carefully. I need you to stay very still. Don’t move or this will hurt…”

She tensed as he lightly ran his finger down from her neck, tracing across the curve of her breast and lightly grazing the nipple, just enough to make her shiver. Then, as he reached her stomach, sharp intense pain began to slowly cut across her abdomen. Each time she flinched it grew worse. She held as still as she could, her mind struggling to focus on the sensation across her stomach and in her cunt. Pain and pleasure exploded in her brain. She was lost in her own mind, floating on a sea of sensation as the cuts circled around, making their way across her body.

“Please, ah, please sir,” she managed to say.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked.

“Oh god, no sir.”

The words surprised her, but they were true. She didn’t want this feeling to end, but she was so ready to come. In a second he was inside her again, pushing her legs up over his shoulder and fucking her deep and hard. She was already there, already on the edge, ready to come.

“Please sir…”

“Hold it.”

“Sir…”

“HOLD IT.”

Everything in her body wanted to come. She was blindfolded, there was nothing to distract her from the sensation, and it took every inch of self control to hold back her orgasm.

“I’m going to count, Claire, and when I reach one, you may come. Understand?” 

He was trying to remain calm, but Claire could hear the exertion and need in his voice. 

“Yes, sir.”

“Good... Five… Four… Three…”

He was nearly there - she let herself get further and further towards the edge. There was no going back now.

“Two…”

There was an agonizing wait. Claire whimpered as he held her there, a grin on his face. 

“One…”

Claire screamed out, convulsing uncontrollably on the desk as she came harder than she ever had before in her life. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over her body as she fought to remain conscious through the intense sensation. 

She collapsed, energy gone, body destroyed, mind in pieces. She lay there, trying to regain her breath for what seemed like forever. As she came to there was nothing, just silence and ticking. 

“Sir?”

There was no reply.

Claire lowered her still bound hands and pulled the fabric from in front of her eyes. The classroom was deserted. She squinted around the dingy room but there was no sign of Sylar anywhere. She woozily sat up and pulled at her wrists - they were tightly bound. She looked down and noticed the blood all over her stomach. Had she not healed? He had left her like this. She grabbed the torn t-shirt, hands still tied, and carefully wiped away at the blood from the stinging wounds. 

Panicking she stood up and caught her reflection in the window of the classroom, and saw the words. There in crimson across her skin were written two words… 

‘Sylar’s Whore’.


	3. Chapter 3

Claire was panicking as she pulled at the cord tightly binding her wrists with her teeth. The dull stinging across her stomach was a constant reminder of what was written there. She had given herself to him - she was his whore and now here she was, standing naked in a deserted classroom, surrounded by torn clothes and debris. She dropped to her knees as she slowly worked her hands free. It took about five minutes to undo the knots but it felt like hours. Her eyes darted between the clock and the door, praying that nobody would come in and see her like this. She froze at every creak and bang that echoed around the corridors just outside the smashed door. Her hands were free but the cord had left grooves across her writs. She ran her hands along them for a second, feeling the beautiful patterns they had left on her skin, then prompted by another startling noise she began to gather up her clothing. 

Her panties had been entirely ripped apart. She stuffed them into her skirt as she pulled on the torn remains of her t-shirt. She winced as she caught the reflection of herself, pulling the remaining material across her torso, barely covering her cuts. The front door had been left open by Sylar. She crept across campus in the darkness, hoping to make it to her locker where she had stashed a spare hoodie. She kept a close look out for anyone spying on her, though she knew there was nothing she could do if someone did spot her. She could barely cover her modesty, holding her t-shirt in place as the cool evening breeze blew up her skirt against her still burning, exposed pussy. 

As she reached the main campus building her heart filled with dread… It was locked. She ran up to it and banged her fists against the front doors in frustration. The wind whipped against her naked skin once again and she wrapped her arms around herself for warmth, preparing for a humiliating walk home. 

She lived only 15 minutes away from campus but it felt like the longest walk of her life. The street lamps illuminated her hunched figure, bouncing off her bare skin. She turned every corner expecting to be confronted by people, but was lucky. Only a couple of times did she pass strangers, feeling their eyes on her exposed flesh as she hurried past. 

She eventually made it home, cautiously making her way to the door. She was sure she saw the neighbor’s curtain twitch as she tiptoed onto the porch. She could just make out the hallway through the frosted glass of the window. Her mother was probably at the back of the house in the kitchen and there was no sign of anyone else. It was a clear path to the stairs, if she could just make it to her room. She put her key into the lock and turned… It was jammed. 

“Oh god, please not now,” she muttered as she jiggled her key against the lock.

“Is that you, honey?” she heard her mom shout from the back of the house. Desperately she twisted the doorknob until it finally released and opened. Her mother’s footsteps were coming down the hall around the corner. She slammed the door behind her and ran up the stairs. 

“Claire honey, how was school…?” Her mom rounded the corner.

“I… Just give me a minute, mom.” Claire hurried into her bedroom, closing and locking the door behind her and collapsing against it. She was full of so much relief, so much adrenaline, so much lust. She couldn’t help herself - before she even knew what she was doing her hand was lifting up her skirt and fingers were burrowing into her pussy, greedily rubbing on her clit, causing her to hold back moans while arching her back against her bedroom door. Images from the last few hours rushed through her head, her free hand tracing the raised outline of the scars forming across her belly as she urgently finger fucked herself. She was breathing so deeply and heavily, every sting and cut and bruise on her body reminding her of the whore that she was, bringing her closer and closer to the edge. She roughly clawed at herself, digging her fingernails into her breasts as she furiously masturbated.

“Dinner is ready honey,” came the call from downstairs.

“I’ll… I’ll be down in a minute,” she called back, finding it impossible to control the wavering in her voice. She grabbed the torn remains of the panties from the waistband of her skirt and bit down on them as she slammed her body against her door, coming almost as hard as before, losing herself in sensation for a few seconds before collapsing to her knees once again and arduously crawling over to the bed to find new clothing to pull on. She pulled on a new shirt, attempting to try and regain some dignity. 

She turned to look at herself in the mirror - she looked like as much of a mess as she felt. Her eye makeup had run down her face, her lipstick smudged across her cheeks and her hair was a total mess. She tried her best to clean herself up and prepare for a few hours of trying to hide the desperately horny little slut that she had become. 

For the next few days, things were so much worse than before. More and more vivid images imprinted themselves into Claire’s imagination throughout the day, and it wasn’t just her mind that had been thoroughly polluted beyond repair - she now had the physical scars too. Every time she sat or moved or walked she would be reminded of him. The deep purple bruises across her ass and the scars sent her crazy every time she felt them. She needed him, needed to be used and needed to come 24 hours a day.

And she kept thinking about what he had said to her, that night…

“…All those filthy thoughts you’ve been having, and the dreams! Disgusting, and I’ve seen every one of them.” 

Was he there in her mind, reading her thoughts, drinking in all of the filthy fantasies she created throughout the day? She would go bright red each time she’d catch her mind falling into dark erotic fantasies, knowing that he might be seeing and planning what to do to her next. Oh god, it was all too much, no amount of masturbation could curb her need to be entirely his all over again. For days and days she was tortured by her imagination, and then the dreams began.

It was the same dream over and over again, for three nights in a row. She would wake in the middle of the night, covered in sweat and with her mind filled with the vivid imagery that kept finding its way into her head. In her dream she would find herself taking the bus to the edge of town, miles away from home. From there she followed a dirt track into an abandoned industrial estate. The huge sheet metal buildings towered over her solitary figure and she walked between them, through the dust filled streets to the same warehouse, number 73. It stood there in the dimming light of early evening and she would be drawn to it. She had never seen it before in her life but she somehow knew it was where she needed to go. As she approached the huge steel doors they would open for her, letting light spill around her slim shadow into the huge empty blackness beyond. She walked through into the void and heard the huge creak as the doors began to close behind her. The shaft of light around her would contract and then vanish as the doors slammed shut. She would be left there in the darkness, locked in the room, feeling eyes on her. And then it would come. The voice, echoing all around her; “Hello Claire, I’ve been waiting for you.” 

And then she would wake, alone in the darkness of her own bedroom, the vivid picture of the journey’s end burning in her mind. Could it be him, invading her dreams, drawing her back to him? Only five days had passed since he had last taken her, but it felt like an eternity. She needed more, and so made up her mind. She had to follow the dream, and go to the warehouse.

Friday night meant cheer practice. Claire wouldn’t be expected home until late in the evening. The clock edged painfully towards the final bell as she sat in her last lesson of the day, hands shaking, mind set on her journey. She had already very nervously excused herself from practice that evening, stuttering through some explanation about a family dinner to the coach. Everything was set, but was she really going to go through with this? She had no idea whether this place even existed! No matter what, she couldn’t carry on like this. She had to try.

The bell finally tolled and Claire headed for the bus. She was focused - her mind was made up, there was no turning back now, she just had to go, to walk, and not think. She sat to the rear of the bus, passing by the scenery she had seen so many times before as stop by stop the bus emptied out. Her throat was dry as she looked around, waiting for someone to question her, thinking that they all knew her dirty secret. Nobody did though, and as the driver announced the last stop, she found herself alone, stepping off the bus, the dirt track before her beckoning her on. 

She was left with a feeling of total abandonment as the bus doors hissed shut behind her. She began to walk. Every step rubbed against her bruises, massaged her abused ass and rubbed her panties against her aching pussy.   
She followed the track further and further away from civilization and the sun began to set. Eventually she caught sight of the warehouses in the distance. She tried to remain calm but almost involuntarily she found her pace quickening. Before she knew it she was running towards them, desperate to reach the end of her quest. She entered the estate and slowed, boxed in now by the huge metal walls surrounding her. As she turned a corner she finally saw it, warehouse 73. It stood before her in the evening light, just as she had pictured it so many times before. She walked up to the huge doors and… Nothing. She stood for a second, not knowing what to do. This was it, the warehouse, the place in her dreams. Why weren’t the doors opening? Was this all a mistake? She glanced over her shoulder, no sign of life. She felt like she was the only person for miles around, except maybe him.

She had come too far to give up now. There was a small rusty door, set into the huge sliding panel. She tried the handle but it was too stiff. She pushed and pushed, forcing the door and slamming her weight into it until finally it swung open with a huge creak. She peered through into the darkness. The huge cavernous space seemed to be empty except for what looked like a wooden fence post, illuminated in the centre of the room by a dusty shaft of light pouring through a hole in the ceiling. 

Her echoing footsteps broke the deafening silence as she made her way across the room towards the post. It was thick and sturdy, bolted down to the floor. It came up to just above Claire’s waist and had metal eyelets screwed into it on the top at either side. On the ground beneath the post was a box, topped with an envelope. Claire’s heart skipped a beat as she saw her name adorning the front of it. She picked it up and carefully tore it open, pulling out the paper inside and holding it up to the ever-dimming light to read.

‘Dear Claire,

You have come here because you want to be owned by me once again. I am eager to make our meetings more frequent, however you must prove yourself to be worthy of becoming my whore. The scarring was the first test, but this will prove once and for all whether you are a suitable fuck-toy for me. 

For the next 2 days you will belong to me. I will use you in whatever ways I please and you will serve me without question or resistance. You will give full control of your mind and body over to me, and if you succeed in providing me with pleasure I will reward you. If you do not agree to these terms, you are free to leave. However, if you wish to stay here and attempt to pass the test, here is what you must do:

You will not be returning home until Sunday - make the necessary calls to be sure you will not be missed. You will then remove all clothes and possessions, fold them and place them in a neat pile on the floor. You will not be needing them. 

In the box you will find shackles, a padlock, a blindfold and a ball gag. Affix the shackles to your wrists, and then get into position on your knees in front of the post. Gag and blindfold yourself, and then padlock your shackles to the post. By doing this, you are giving yourself to me. Make your choice carefully.’

Holy shit! Could she go through with it? Claire looked back at the door, her escape. She could walk away from all this, but then she knew she could never escape the agony, the endless need to be his. Before she knew it, her phone was in her hand, ringing in her ear.

“Hey Claire-bear!” She blushed at hearing her father’s voice, imagining what he would think if he knew where she was, what she was about to do.

“Oh hey dad, Kelly invited me to stay with her at the cabin this weekend. Do you mind if I go?” She prayed that he wouldn’t hear the guilt in her voice as she fought to remain calm.

“Oh, sure thing, honey! Do you need me to bring you anything? Toothbrush, clothes?”

“Oh, erm, no thanks, I’ve got everything I need,” she stuttered.

“Okay honey, I’ll see you on Sunday then I guess?”

“Sure, see you on Sunday.”

“Bye bye honey, love you.”

“Love you too, Dad.”

She hung up, holding onto her phone tightly. She walked over to the door and took one last look at her path to freedom before slamming it shut and turning back towards the post. She awkwardly began to undress. The dust clung to her bare feet and she peeled off her jeans. The warehouse was cold and her nipples grew instantly hard as she slipped of her bra. Her pussy tingled as she dropped her panties. She knelt on the floor, folding her clothes into a neat little pile in the dirt, as instructed, before crawling over to the box. 

Inside were the items Sylar had described. Two heavy metal shackles lay on top of the pile. They were made of thick metal, very cold to the touch. Claire slipped one around her wrist, the chill making her wince a little. As she closed it over her arm she heard it click into place. She tugged at it but it was locked. It weighed down her arm as she reached in to pick up the next shackle, and with a deep breath, clamped it to her other arm. They were a tight fit; there was no way she could escape from them. Peering into the box she could see that the padlock was equally as heavy duty, and there was no sign of a key. 

Just the act of cuffing herself had already begun Claire’s juices flowing. She began to move faster, hungrily picking up the large red ball gag and stuffing it into her mouth, tightly fastening the leather buckle behind her head so that the straps dug into her cheeks slightly. It pressed down on her tongue and filled up her mouth. She closed her eyes for a second as she imagined Sylar’s cock doing the same. Her hands began to move towards her cunt, fingers running along her thighs, inching closer and closer. Her mind raced with thoughts of what Sylar would do to her if he caught her on her knees finger fucking herself in shackles. It scared her… It wasn’t worth the risk.

It took all of her self control to pull her hands away from her aching clit and back into the box. She pulled out the blindfold, grabbed the padlock with her other hand and moved into position before the pole. Her knees were covered with dirt from the floor and made it uncomfortable to kneel. She tied the blindfold tightly around her eyes, blocking out the last remaining glimmers of dwindling light and fumbled with the lock, looping it through the o-rings on her cuffs and, after a little blind searching, around the attachment on the post. With one last push and click, she gave away her freedom. 

And there she was. Blinded, gagged, bound and helpless. Alone in a warehouse miles away from anyone… Even if she could have screamed out there was nothing she could have done. As the minutes ticked by and she was left with nothing but her own thoughts she began to panic. She pulled at the shackles, tried to slip out of them, twist them free, but they were tight, and strong and locked. She sat back on her knees, head down in resigned submission and waited…


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

She knelt there, bound, gagged and blindfolded, waiting for him to return. The occasional flutter of birds overhead was the only thing that broke the silence around her, as what felt like hours passed her by. She regretted her lust-filled tightening of the ball gag as it dug into her skin and pushed its way into her mouth, causing a string of drool to fall from her lips and down across her naked chest. She shuffled her knees, trying to shift the dirt and dust as it left impressions in her soft skin. She had no idea how long she spent there, no sense of time. Just thoughts of him, and what he would do to her when he returned. She would do anything right now to have him touch her, use her, ram his cock down her throat and make her gag. She didn’t know how much longer she could wait, but she guessed she had no choice…

Then she heard footsteps outside, approaching the warehouse. Could this be him, finally? What if it wasn’t, what if a total stranger was about to discover her, what would they do to her? Her primal reaction was to try once again to pull her hands free of the restraints, but there was no chance of escape. She did the only thing she could do - sit and wait to be discovered. The handle of the door clicked open and the door swung on its rusty hinges, creaking as it opened painfully slowly. There was silence for a second before the footsteps began, calmly moving towards her. She couldn’t see, she couldn’t speak… She was at his mercy. Nearer and nearer until he was right behind her, he was inches away, she could almost feel the warmth of his body radiating against her naked flesh. 

Without saying a word he had wrapped his arm tightly around her neck and was holding her from behind, causing her to gasp at what little air she could around the gag in her mouth. His muscles pressed against her windpipe as he leant in to whisper in her ear.

“I see you’ve made your choice, Claire.”

Claire tried to nod but this only increased Sylar’s grip on her, sending a pulse of excitement through her body.

“Speak up.”

“Yes, Sir,” Claire managed to mumble through the gag, consonants slurring.

“Good girl.” He released her neck and began to undo the buckle on her ball gag.

“I’m looking forward to using you for the next two days, Claire. There are so many things I’m going to do to you. I’m going to push you to the limit, and if you survive, and I don’t grow bored of you, maybe I can find more uses for you.”

He pulled the ball out of her mouth and she gasped for air. SMACK! He slapped her hard across the face.

“What do you say, slut?”

“Oh… God… Thank you, Sir.”

“That’s better.”

His arm was back around her throat, not choking her now, but embracing her, firmly holding her in place. His other hand slipped under her arm and across her chest. Claire held back a whimper as his palm softly brushed over her nipples.

“For the next two days, Claire, your only purpose in life is to provide pleasure for me. Your body belongs to me. You will not touch yourself sexually or come without my permission or there will be serious repercussions. You will obey my commands without question. You will not speak unless spoken to and will address me as Sir. Do you understand?”

“Yes Sir,” she moaned as his hand began to make its way down her stomach. 

“Good girl.”

Her hips began to push forward as his hand made its way down past her hips, struggling to move her pussy closer to his slowly edging fingers. She felt the grip around her neck tighten slightly and had to fight her instincts in order to stop squirming and stay still. 

“If you wish to stop at any point, you are free to go, but be warned; there will be no return once you end this. Your safe word is Red. Oh, and don’t worry if you’re gagged, you just need to think it. I’ll be listening… Understand?”

“Yes Sir, thank you Sir.”

His fingers wrapped around, stroking only the very outer lips of her pussy. The urge to move, to push her cunt down onto his fingers and fuck herself was unbearable, but she fought against it. She couldn’t help but let out involuntary whimpers as he pushed down further, stroking agonizingly close to her clit. She felt him move around her as he released her neck. He pulled off the blindfold and she found herself looking directly into his eyes, that sadistic smug expression on his face. She wanted to resist it, but she couldn’t; it was written all over her face that she was broken, begging for pleasure. All his, and he knew it. 

Her head flew back in pleasure as finally he pushed two fingers deep inside her, firmly pumping her several times before pulling them out, a string of her juices trailing from his fingers to her glistening cunt. 

“Open wide.”

He lifted them to her lips and she dutifully parted them as he fed them to her. She hungrily licked and sucked her own juices from him, tasting herself, wanting more. He watched her with sadistic pleasure, pulling his fingers from her mouth and wiping them across her face. 

“We really must put that mouth to good use…”

“Yes, please Sir.”

“All in good time. I have other plans first,” he said, standing before her. 

He ran his hand through her hair, firmly grabbing her and pulling her hair back. She looked up at the figure towering before her, all in black, his enticing crotch in front of her face. With a smile he pulled a large butt plug from his pocket and, taking far too much pleasure from the scared look on her face, shoved it into her mouth.

“Stand up,” he ordered.

Claire struggled to her feet, her hands still padlocked to the metal post. She was unable to stand up straight but was forced to bend forward, her ass pushed out behind her. 

“Perfect,” Sylar said, circling round behind her and giving her a sharp slap on her butt. He turned her head, desperate to know what he was going to do to her.

“Keep your eyes forward.”

She turned back. Not daring to look, or question him. She heard him take something else from his pocket. There was the click of an opening bottle cap and then she felt liquid pouring down into her butt. She squirmed as it dripped down over her asshole. She felt his hands on her cheeks, pulling them apart as he watched the liquid slowly trickle down her. She was filled with humiliation, totally exposed and finding herself once again, involuntarily sobbing as it trickled tantalizingly close to her already wet pussy. 

“I’ve decided to take your little virgin asshole tonight, Claire. I know you’ve dreamt about me fucking it nice and hard, and I’m going to make all those dreams come true.”

She moaned loudly as he massaged his thumb around her well-lubricated hole before slipping it gently inside her.

“Try to relax, otherwise this will hurt.”

Claire’s legs shook as he worked his thumb deeper and deeper. She was so lust-filled, so worked up that there was nothing she wanted more right now then for him to fill her up with his glorious cock. He knew, and he was toying with her, playing with her, pressing all the right buttons to drive her crazy. She pushed back on his thumb, urging it to go deeper inside her. He laughed.

“You’re very keen, aren’t you?”

He grabbed the plug from her mouth and in one move shoved it into her ass. She gasped as it painfully stretched her and let out a cry as it reached the widest point, forcing her open. Sylar sadistically held it there for a few seconds, making her suffer before pushing it in fully, allowing her muscles to relax onto the waist of the plug. 

“Good girl.” 

With a click, the heavy padlock before her sprung open, releasing her hands.

“Stand up straight.”

Claire did as commanded, standing slowly, feeling the new sensation of the plug in her ass, moving as she stood. Her anal sphincter convulsed, pushing it deeper inside her. She bit her lip as it moved inside her. 

“How does it feel?” he asked.

“Good… I think… Thank you, Sir.”

He reached inside his bag and brought out two more cuffs matching those on Claire’s wrists and handed them to her. 

“Attach these to your ankles,” he instructed, a smug smile on his face. 

“Yes sir.”

She took the cuffs and closed her eyes as she bent over to lock them around her legs, feeling his eyes on her as the plug shifted around in her ass, causing her to sigh heavily. The metal hugged her skin as she rose up again, trying desperately to not react to the plug stimulating her butt.

Sylar was holding a shiny metal collar, heavy like the rest of the restrains but elegant in design, a single piece with the hinge barely visible. He made her lift her hair as he slid it into place around her neck, the lock clicking as it snugly fit into place. He ran his hand tenderly over her cheek, his face close to hers, their lips almost touching, his eyes boring into hers filled with lust and desire. 

“You are ready,” he said softly to her, stoking her cheek. She closed her eyes, desperately wanting him to kiss her. SMACK. He slapped her hard across the face once again.

“Follow me,” he instructed and began to make his way towards the back of the warehouse before turning with a smile. 

“On your hands and knees…”

She fought to stay silent as she dropped to her knees onto the filthy floor below. Dust and dirt covered her knees and hands as she slowly made her way across the floor, her ass wiggling with each step, twisting and shifting the butt plug back and forth inside her. Every move of her legs brushed against the outer lips of her vagina, teasing her to the edge of sanity. 

At the far end of the warehouse were a couple of large office buildings built into the walls of the structure. They looked just ad disheveled as the rest of the room, windows patchily boarded up and metal doors rusting at the hinges. Sylar waited patiently for Claire outside the larger of the two, watching as she made her slow and agonizing way across the floor. 

“This whole warehouse belongs to me, Claire. The whole estate has been abandoned for years. There’s not a living soul for miles around. I like it, means I’m not likely to get disturbed as I go about my business. It might not look like much, but not everything is quite what it seems.”

He opened up the door and inside was a beautiful contemporary apartment, a stark contrast to the world around it. It was immaculate; the shiny wooden floor reflected the lights sunk into the ceiling. Claire could make out an open kitchen, huge sofas and a luxurious dark oak four poster bed, heavy drapes handing down from its crossbeams. He watched her face in amusement as she took in the luxury, casually grabbing a dog leash from inside the door before slamming it shut with a huge metallic bang. 

“You have to earn the right to enter my apartment. Let me show you where you’ll be staying…”

He clipped the leash onto her collar and made his way over to the other building. His pace was fast and Claire had no choice but to pick up her pace as he roughly pulled at her neck. As they reached the other building, Sylar pushed the door open with a grin. The room was dark and dingy, bare corrugated metal walls surrounded the same dirty concrete floor that filled the rest of the warehouse space. In the center of the floor was a mattress beneath a single bare electric bulb, dimply lighting the room. A camera on a tripod was pointed towards the mattress, and in the shadows around the outskirts Claire could just make out strange furniture. Chairs and beds adorned with heavy leather straps, tables covered in what looked like torture equipment, and dotted around the room a collection of dusty old television monitors.

He led her by the leash over to a piece of equipment resembling a tall padded bench. Without a word he pulled her from the ground by her hair and lifted her over the bench so she was lying on her front, arms and legs dangling by the legs of the table, her cunt pushed up against the cool leather. Excitement began to fill her chest as he circled around her, affixing her legs and arms to attachments around the bench. 

“I’ve told you that if you disobey me this weekend, you will be punished. I think this threat would be most effective if I demonstrated exactly how…”

SMACK. He slapped her hard across the ass. She let out a startled cry, arms jolting in a futile attempt to escape. 

“That was my hand; let’s call that a warning. If you are displeasing me, I shall inform you of your mistakes with my hand. However, if you continue failing to meet my standards, I will be forced to employ something more severe. Understand?”

“Yes Sir.”

He sauntered over to a table as he talked, casually picking up several instruments before settling on a thick black leather paddle. He turned with a grin and made his way behind her once again. 

“This is a paddle, Claire. It covers a wide area, so will feel similar to my hand, though I can use it to hit you much harder. Are you ready?”

“Yes Sir,” Claire whimpered.

There was a sadistically long, silent pause as Claire waited, bracing herself before SMACK! It was a lot harder than his hand had been. She winced as her muscles contracted, shifting the plug once again. She felt her pussy buzzing with the need to be touched, and attained some small relief by shifting her pelvis against the leather bench as Sylar collected another toy, admiring her ass as it begin to redden with a rosy glow. 

“Now, if you fail to complete a task altogether, or forget to call me Sir, answer me back or continue to displease me with your performance I will use this on you. This is a flogger.”

Claire shivered as he ran the leather tails along her naked back. Sylar moved in close and whispered in her ear as he gently whipped the tails against her skin. 

“This one can be gentle. I can use it to tease you, to stimulate you and drive you crazy. But those tails are thin, and if I have to discipline you with this, it can really sting. Ready?”

She closed her eyes.

“Yes Sir.”

WHACK. In a second the flogger whipped harshly across her back, leaving a smattering of red lines. Claire cried out as the painful stinging spread across her back. Claire fought back tears as she pulled at the restraints, back arching as thin welts began to form across her skin.

“But hopefully I won’t have to use that…”

“Please Sir, no Sir,” she panted. Was it over? Sylar sauntered over to the table and place the flogger carefully back in its place. He paused for a second before picking up a cane. He playfully whipped it though the air and against his hand as he turned back towards her, a deliciously evil flash in his eyes as he spied the terrified look on Claire’s face.

“Do you know what this is, Claire?” he asked softly.

“A cane, Sir.” Her voice shook despite her best efforts.

“Very good, Claire-Bear, very good. Now a cane concentrates a lot of energy into a very small area. It leaves beautiful deep welts in the skin, and it really fucking hurts. This is a severe punishment, Claire. If you directly disobey one of my orders this weekend, if you come or even touch yourself without my permission, this is what you will get.”

He moved around her into position once again,

“Please no Sir…” Claire begged.

“Ready?” he asked.

“No, please Sir, I’ll do everything you say, I promise.”

“READY?” he repeated, more demanding this time. Claire took a few calming breaths and tightly shut her eyes, bracing herself…

“Ready,” she sobbed.

He was merciful; he didn’t play games, he didn’t make her wait. He just hit - one hit, that was all it took. WHACK. The cane swished through the air and lashed across her cheeks, sinking into her skin, which instantly blossomed into a dark red welt. Claire’s body convulsed, he screamed out as the intense pain washed over her. She struggled hard against her restraints, ramming her pelvis as hard as she could against the leather, butt plug pushing gently into her with every contraction. She gasped for air as she filled with need and pain and lust. 

“What do you say?” Sylar asked, hungrily watching her struggle. 

“Aah, please, oh thank you Sir,” she slurred.

“Good girl,” he soothed, gently slapping her face. 

“Now, how does your ass feel? Are you ready to be fucked?”

“Yes, please Sir.”

“I don’t believe you...”

“Yes, please Sir, please fuck my ass.” She was no longer in control, and she found herself begging, pleading with him. She just needed to be used, to be fucked like his object, his personal sex toy. She had waited for too long now, she needed this.   
“Please Sir, I’ll do anything, please give me the good hard ass-fucking I deserve.”

Sylar smirked as he began to release her shackles from the bench. He lifted her exhausted body over to the mattress and threw her down, wandering over to the camera as she lay there. He stood behind it, pressing a button and pointing it towards her. The screens around the room lit up with her image in grainy black and white. In every direction she looked she saw herself, naked and broken. Hair disheveled, eye liner running down her cheeks, bruises, welts and sweat covering her body. 

“What is your name?” he asked. 

“What… Sir?” She caught herself just in time as his eyebrow was rising.

“Answer me, whore, what is your name?”

“… Claire Bennett, Sir.”

“Why are you here?” He paused and waited. “I’m going to wait until I get an answer. Why are you here?”

Claire swallowed her pride.

“Because I want to be used, Sir, I want to be your fuck toy.” She could barely look up, surrounded by images of the cock-hungry slut she had become. 

“This is just a little memento, a reminder for both of us of the degraded little cum-slut you have become, Claire. And perhaps another incentive for you to not displease me. It would be a shame if daddy were to see what had become of his little girl, wouldn’t it? What a submissive little whore you are. Now ask me nicely to fuck you in the ass.”

“Please Sir, fuck me in the ass.” Tears welled up in her eyes, her voice cracking as she submitted to her urges. She lay there, powerless to do anything but entirely submit to him as he, moved behind her, pulling off his belt and beginning to undo his jeans. 

“On your knees, face down on the mattress, ass up in the air. Hands on your cheeks and spread them,” he firmly instructed.

Claire quickly obeyed, lifting up her hips, her face buried into the mattress as she reached back, pulling her cheeks apart and fully exposing herself. She didn’t care, she was beyond embarrassment, she would blindly follow any instruction he gave, as long as she got fucked. 

Sylar knelt behind her and ran his hand all the way down her back to the plug. She felt his fingers closed around the flange and closed her eyes as he pulled it slowly from her asshole, pausing again at the widest point just long enough for her to feel it stretch her fully. She felt the trickle of lube running down her once again, his thumb rubbing around her hole as his fingers barely grazed the lips of her pussy. He sensually pushed in deeper and deeper, twisting his thumb as he worked it into her ass. It slipped in easily since she had been stretched out, and felt amazing as he slid through her sphincter. 

“Just fuck me…”

It just slipped out, she hadn’t meant to say it, the words going round and around in her head. But she let it come out of her mouth, fuck! He pulled out his thumb.

“Please Sir, I’m sorry Sir.”

He replied softly, with danger in his voice, “What did I say about not speaking unless spoken to?”

“I’m sorry Sir.”

“What did I say about addressing me correctly?”

“Yes Sir, I’m sorry Sir.”

He leaned in close and whispered into her ear.

“So… Ask me properly.”

“Please fuck me, Sir…”

“Good girl…”

And with that, his hands were firmly on her hips as the head of his cock pressed against her anus. She eagerly pushed back, filled with insatiable need as he entered her, slowly but firmly thrusting into her. She moaned loudly as he began to make gentle, shallow thrusts, keeping a constant rhythm as he firmly gripped her. Gradually, with every stroke he began to go deeper. Deeper than the butt plug, filling her, using her, making her feel filthy and hot and needing it more than ever. Needing to be violated and used for his pleasure. 

“Please Sir, please I want more, I want it harder Sir.”

Without a word, Sylar dug his nails into her skin and thrust his entire length deep inside her. She cried out as he pumped her again and again, his skin slapping against her ass as he pounded her.

“You like that, you filthy slut?” he asked through gritted teeth as he fucked her.

“Oh, oh god, yes Sir, thank you Sir.”

His hand reached over hand grabbed her hair, pulling her onto her hands and forcing her head back. She took full advantage of this new position, pushing herself back onto his cock harder and harder, screaming in ecstasy. All this time, all this building up was too much, she felt herself edging dangerously close to orgasm.

“Please Sir, please may I come… Please Sir?”

There was no answer, she tried to turn to look at him but he gripped her hair tighter, forcing her head forward directly into the camera. She caught sight of herself in the monitor, sending another jolt of energy to her pussy.

“Please Sir, I can’t hold it, please…”

Harder and harder he pushed, closer and closer until she was on the edge, she fought against it but there was nothing she could do, the sensation was overwhelming. One more stroke and she would be there, he pulled back and all the way out of her, releasing her hair and pushing her down onto the bed. She panted and moaned, still so close to the brink.

“On your knees in front of me, NOW,” he barked.

She pulled herself up and shuffled clumsily towards him as quickly as she could. He grabbed her hair in one hand, fisting his cock with his other and he looked down on her. 

“Open your mouth.”

She didn’t need any encouragement, she was his right now, his filthy fuck-toy and she wanted his come. His grip increased on her hair as he stroked. He let out a moan as finally he exploded into her mouth. Spurts of come shot to the back of her throat and onto her cheeks, covering her face. 

“Swallow,” he commanded.

She closed her eyes and savored the sensation as the warm salty liquid slid down the back of her throat. With his hand in her hair he guided her onto his cock to suck up the last of the precum and lick him clean. He released her and she looked up at him expectantly.

“Good job, whore. That will be all,” he said, walking over to his jeans and stepping back into them.

“But Sir, please…”

“I said that will be all.”

“Please Sir,” she begged.

He turned to her and roughly grabbed her cheeks.

“I have used you sufficiently today. Now I suggest you get some rest, because you’re going to have a busy day tomorrow.”

He pushed her roughly down onto the mattress. She stared up at him desperately as he grabbed a plate of bread and a bowl of water from a table near the door and placed them on the ground next to her. He kicked a dirty metal bucket towards her, smirking as her face turned red. 

“I think that’s everything you need…” He chuckled as he turned to leave.

“Oh, and I’m sure you remember the rules about touching yourself or coming…” he said, casually turning back as he reached the doorway. “… and the consequences if you do. I’ll be watching.”

He turned back and left, slamming the door behind him, locking the heavy bolts with his power before his footsteps faded away. 

Claire could barely move. She lay there, every muscle in her body wanted to her to pinch her nipples, rub her pussy, to shove a toy up her gaping ass and fuck herself, to do anything to release the tension, but she knew what would happen if she did. She looked around the room at the TV monitors. They were now showing the footage of her submission on repeat, she watched as again and again her face filled with pain and pleasure as Sylar fucked her virgin asshole. Her pussy burned, her ass was raw but there was nothing she could do but wait, and pray he would be merciful tomorrow and finally let her come. This was going to be a long night.


	5. Chapter 5

Exhausted, Claire slipped into a restless sleep filled with erotic dreams. She saw him, watching over her, observing her mind, smiling that evil sadistic smile of his. Occasionally she would awaken, pussy dripping wet and swollen with lust. In her semi-conscious state she would half-open her eyes to see the video still looping on the screens around the room, reminding her of the pounding she took the night before. She tossed and turned, wanting more than anything to play with herself, but knowing she could not. He was watching her, waiting for her to give him an excuse to abuse her ass ever more. The welts from yesterday still stung her has she rolled over on the bare mattress. 

There was no clock, no noise but the buzzing of the monitors. Nothing to make the time go quicker, just her thoughts and her physical, aching, desperate need to come. She’d managed to crawl over to the food at some point in the early hours of the morning, awoken by her stomach growling. She forced the stale bread down and lapped up the water from the bowl on the floor like a dog. It went some way towards feeding her but she still felt desperately hungry. She had waited until she was desperate to pee in the bucket, her face burning with shame as she imagined him watching her, reduced to squatting on that concrete floor. 

The sound of birds outside the warehouse was her only indication in the windowless room that morning was finally breaking. She knew that she could still be waiting for hours but tried to prepare herself for him as best she could, splashing water over her face and her cum soaked pussy to be ready for him. Finally after what seemed like hours, she heard those now familiar footsteps heading towards her door. Her heart jumped as she moved to the door, kneeling before it, ready to submit to his every command. 

She kept her head down as the door creaked open, light slowly spilling into the room. She felt his eyes upon her as he slowly entered. 

“Good girl,” he cooed as he approached her, circling around behind her and stroking her hair.

“I trust my little whore followed the rules last night…?”

“Yes Sir,” Claire dutifully answered. Sylar casually clipped together her wrist shackles, forcing her arms behind her back, before circling back in front of her. 

“Very good. I brought you breakfast…”

He placed a metal bowl of something that looked like porridge onto the floor in front of her. There was no spoon. She looked up at him…

“Sir?”

“Are you hungry, slut?”

“Yes Sir, but…” 

“Then eat!” He crouched down, looking her directly in the eye, his lip beginning to curl into a sadistic smile. 

She was starving; her stomach had been aching all night. With a failed attempt at a defiant look, Claire leant down towards the food, her arms bound behind her back. She felt a wave of shame pass through her as she was forced to slowly lift up her naked ass in order to reach the bowl. Sylar reached towards it, tenderly tracing the outlines of the sensitive welts, making her softly moan. 

“Let me give you a hand,” he whispered, suddenly grabbing her hair and forcing her head down into the bowl. 

“EAT!”

She did. His voice penetrated through everything else, demanding to be followed. She gave in to her needs and hungrily wolfed down the slop. He held her there as she ate every last drop, face covered in food as she licked the bowl clean.

“What do you say?” asked Sylar patronizingly as he pulled her back to her knees.

“Thank you, Sir,” she dutifully responded as he unhooked the wrist shackles, releasing her arms. 

“Good girl. Now touch yourself!”

The command took her by surprise, and it took her a second to realize what he had just said…

SLAP.

“I said touch yourself.”

That hard slap across the face was enough to bring back her focus. 

“Sorry Sir, thank you Sir.”

Her hand immediately reached down between her legs as she pressed firmly on her clit as she began to eagerly rub herself. She convulsed even at her own touch, so desperate had she been all night for any form of relief. She closed her eyes and within seconds she was already moaning softly as Sylar got to his feet and began circling her.

“Good girl. I’ve got an exciting day planned for you today, my pet. You’ve proven what a whore you can be, but if you want to serve me you must prove yourself in other ways…”

Everything was a blur as Claire slipped her fingers inside her pussy, but Sylar’s words penetrated her consciousness. His voice and her pleasure were the only things that existed in the world. 

“…and so your first job this morning will be to clean my apartment. You will do a thorough job. If I find a speck of dust anywhere I will wipe it up with your hair; if my bathroom floor is not spotless I will make you lick it clean. Do you understand?”

“Yes…. Sir… Uhh.” She tried to hold back moans as she answered. She was so very close to coming, she would agree to anything for him right now. 

“Please Sir… Agh… Please may I come…?”

He knelt beside her once again, chuckling. With a flick of his wrist she felt him take control of her body, stopping her hand and pulling it away from her needy cunt. She was about to protest when he grabbed her cheeks, turning her desperate face towards his.

“If you do a good enough job then I may consider letting you come, eventually. Now what do you say?”

“Thank you Sir,” she whispered. He laughed as he got to his feet, releasing her body and watching her collapse onto the cold ground.

“You really are a pathetic little fuck-toy aren’t you? Get yourself ready; stand to attention by the door. I’ll be back.”

He left the room, taking the bowl with him and slamming the door, leaving her in a heap. She was a mess, if she could just touch herself, just come… Maybe he would never know… But she knew he would, and he wouldn’t be merciful. She remembered the cane, and she could still feel the welt on her ass, even from one single hit. She tried to repress her urges as she got to her feet, legs shaking. She used the last of the water to clean the oats from her face and stood before the door, nervously awaiting his return. 

Within a few minutes he was back. He briefly looked her up and down as he entered, inspecting his property before grabbing a chain from the wall. It was chrome in colour, cold and heavy, with four smaller lengths linked into the main chain. He attached each of these to her arm and leg shackles and the main chain to her collar. They brushed against her warm skin as she moved. He commanded she open her mouth and inserted the ball gag, tightly fastening it around her head. Finally he attached the leash to her neck once again. 

“On your knees, whore, and follow me.”

It was even harder to keep up with him now that the chains restricted her movement. Sylar pulled at the collar tightly around her neck and she painfully crawled after him as fast as she could. She felt even more exposed, moving out of her tiny room into the huge cavernous warehouse. The chains clinked as they brushed along the floor and Claire bit down against the gag to keep from whimpering as her legs brushed together, rubbing her well-lubricated pussy lips against each other. 

They reached the apartment and Sylar commanded her to her feet. He pushed open the door and ushered her into his luxurious living quarters. His apartment consisted of one huge open plan room, with only the bathroom walled off in one corner. The kitchen island separated the room in half and the huge four-poster bed dominated the far side. Sylar entered behind her and closed the door. He reached into a cupboard and pulled out a waist apron and reached under her chains to tie it around her. 

“Wouldn’t want you to get dirty now, would we…” he whispered into her ear.

He moved in close behind her, pressing his crotch up against her ass, his hand sliding around her throat. His other hand began to make its way down the pinny. She whined a little, pushing her hips forward, only to receive a sharp squeeze of her windpipe as he reached into the pocket of the apron and pulled out a chain with nipple clamps attached to either end. 

“You know, cleaning is not the most exciting job in the world, Claire, so I thought these might make it a little more interesting.”

His tongue gently traced the outline of her ear as his hand made its way back up her body and he began to tease her nipples. They instantly hardened at his touch, goosebumps pricking the skin around them. He looped the clamps through the chain already hanging across Claire’s body and eased the cold clasps onto her sensitive nipples. She gasped as they tightened. Sylar released her and she shivered at the cold of the metal, his warm arms no longer against her skin. 

“You’ll find everything you need in the bathroom cupboard. I trust you know how to clean an apartment, slut?”

“I… Yes, Sir,” she mumbled through the gag.

“Good.”

Sylar strode over to a desk by his bed and opened up his laptop. She stood for a second not knowing what to do, before cautiously making her way over to the bathroom. Each step dragged the cold chains over her flesh and pulled at her nipple clamps. She tried not to make too much noise, catching her breath as she bent down to the bathroom cupboard, gathering everything she would need to dust and clean the floors. 

She began to work on the room, dusting the surfaces and shelves, each bend and stretch pulling and yanking at the chains across her body. Sylar’s focus was entirely on his screen. He was poring through online news articles, his steely gaze only leaving the screen to make notes. Spontaneous combustion, miraculous healing, reports of a flying man? Was he looking for more people like her? More powers to harvest and build his strength… She could see his drive, his obsession. She should be stopping him, sabotaging him somehow before more people got killed. And once he had enough powers, what was he going to use them for? Would there ever be enough? Was he going to take over the world or just keep using them against her? To find more creative ways to torture and fuck her… A jolt of excitement shot to her pussy once again. She couldn’t stop him, she couldn’t do anything. She was his and she needed to come. He sat clicking away at the keys on his computer, focus entirely on his work as if it were nothing to have her chained and naked in his house. She was just a servant to him right now, a slut degraded to housework for the promise of a single orgasm. She kept working, head down, knowing that the sooner she finished, the sooner he would toy with her again. 

Hours went by as Claire swept, mopped, dusted and scrubbed. The clamps on her nipples ached and pulled on her as she reached up to the higher shelves. The chains restricted her movement as she shuffled around the room, trying to keep them as quiet as possible in fear of disturbing her master. Her jaw ached from the ball gag still forcing it open, pressing down on her tongue and filling her mouth. This discomfort was nothing, however, compared to the dull constant aching need for cock. 

After inspecting the apartment for the third time she was sure she had covered every inch. She cautiously approached Sylar who was still engrossed in the screen. She stood at his side, patiently waiting for him to acknowledge her. He waited several agonizing minutes before finally speaking to her.

“Are you finished?”

“Yes Sir,” she answered, her words barely intelligible and muffled by the gag still in place in her mouth. 

Sylar slowly closed his laptop and stood to inspect the room. Claire waited anxiously as he walked around, running his fingers along the surfaces to check for dust. Had she done enough? 

“Keep your eyes forward,” Sylar barked as she began to turn to see what he was doing. She stood bold upright, not daring to move a muscle as he moved around beyond her periphery. His shoes clicked across the floor as the minutes ticked by. Finally she felt him approach her, his breath on her neck as he reached his hands around her to her breasts, his hands lightly brushing over her nipples before slowly releasing the clamps. Claire bit down hard on the gag to keep from screaming out as the orgasmically painful sensation flooded back into her nipples. He felt his breath on her ear as he leaned in to speak. 

“Good girl…” he whispered. His chin rested against her neck as he removed her apron. He slipped the material from around her waist, unclipping the chain from her cuffs and collar and letting it fall to the ground. She stood there feeling totally exposed with no more chains hanging in front of her as he carefully removed the ball gag from her mouth, allowing her to finally close it. His hand cupped her breast, slipping down onto her stomach, fingers inching towards her pussy. Instinctively she closed her eyes and let her head fall back as he slid over her stomach and down over her pelvis. 

SLAP.

She let out a cry as he spanked her cunt hard, his hand flying up to hold her neck once again. 

“Your pussy is soaking wet, whore. I don’t want you to make a mess of my apartment. Go to your room and wait for me on your knees. Understand?”

“Yes, Sir…”

He released her from his grip, throwing her to the floor.

“Crawl…”

No defiance was left in her. She picked herself up off the ground and crawled out of his apartment and back across the cold concrete floor to her dark little room. The screens were now blank and bare bulb hanging in the centre of the room was once again the only light source. She crawled across the floor, not daring to stand, knowing he would be watching her. She shuffled around to face the door and sat up on her knees. She didn’t have to wait long. 

Sylar appeared in the doorway, grinning at the sight of his dutiful submissive. Casually he wandered in and leant against one of the tables surrounding the room, casually picking up a crop and idly whipping it against his hand, eyes locked with hers.

“You’ve done very well, Claire-Bear. You’ve proven to be very useful, but I need more than that. I want to break you down so that you’re nothing but my slave. I want you to have no self worth whatsoever… Total and utter humility.”

“Yes Sir.” Her voice cracked as she spoke, utterly humiliated by how his degrading words aroused her so much.

“So, I want to know what you’re willing to do for me…”

He put the crop down and wandered over to stand directly in front of her, gently tugging her hair to pull her face upwards towards his. 

“Touch yourself, and tell me when you’re ready to come…”

“Oh god, thank you Sir.”

Claire needed no hesitation. She hungrily slipped her fingers deep into her cunt and began to massage her clit, his gaze almost immediately sending her over the edge. In less than a minute she was begging to come. 

“Please, oh god, please Sir, please may I come?”

Sylar laughed.

“Here’s the game, Claire. I will only let you come if you can come up with a way of showing me your total submission to me, and until you can, I’m going to keep making you edge. Stand up, and keep touching yourself.”

Shakily, Claire got to her feet, slowing her fingers to keep herself from climaxing.

“So… Any ideas?” he asked, stepping back to stand and watch her, desperation and need plastered all over her face. 

“Erm… I’ll let you use me however you please…”

“I can already do that… Try harder.”

“Um… Oh… I’ll do anything you ask, Sir, anything. You can fuck my pussy and my throat and my ass as much as you like…”

“Nope… Try again. I want you to show your complete humility and submission to me.”

“I’ll… I’ll never wear clothes again without your permission. I’ll torture myself with nipple clamps and you can whip and cane me for hours, days. Break me and cut me and use me and fuck me, just please let me… Please let me come, Sir.”

She had come dangerously close to the edge just thinking about him abusing her body for his own amusement. It took every ounce of Claire’s self control not to fall over the edge. 

“Well if that’s the best you can come up with… It’s not good enough. Stop touching yourself.”

“Oh please, Sir.”

“NOW.”

She tore her hands away from her pussy.

“Remember what I said about not touching yourself without my permission? Make sure you react a little quicker next time I tell you to take your hands off your cunt, otherwise you know the consequences…”

“Ye… Yes Sir.”

She stood there desperately in front of him, knees bent, hands tightly clasped together with nothing else to grip onto. Totally exposed and broken, she pleaded with him, begging as she looking into his cold eyes. He broke his gaze for a second, his eye line flashing down to the floor beside her. She instinctively glanced down, only to see the bucket. Her heart skipped a beat… She turned her head back to see him smiling at the realization creeping across her face.

“So… Any more ideas yet?” he asked, smirking at her. 

Shame and desperation welled up inside her. She knew what she had to do but couldn’t find the words, lost in a haze. Her legs began to shake a little as she looked up at him, barely able to meet his gaze, her face reddening by the second.

“I… I…” she stuttered.

Sylar did nothing to aid her, to break the silence. He just stood patiently and waited for her to seal her own fate.

“I could… Pour the bucket over myself, Sir…”

“You could…” 

“I, I will Sir, if it will prove my humility to you, Sir. Please Sir, I need to come. Please.”

“Very well.” Sylar folded his arms, and waited.

This was cruel. He did not command her; if he had she would have done it in a second. She would do anything that voice said to her, but he didn’t even suggest it. She had no excuse - this was her choice, her filthy insatiable need for sex that was making her do this. She felt like such a whore, and it turned her on so very much. With a sob she grabbed the bucket and held it above her head. She attempted to give one final defiant look to Sylar before pouring her own piss over her head, but melted under his gaze, unable to keep that broken and pathetic expression off her face. 

She tipped the bucket. 

The cold liquid poured over her hair, gushing over her face and down her entire body. She closed her eyes and mouth tightly as it ran off her chin over her tits. She collapsed to her knees, the bucket rolling out of her shaking hand as her piss soaked hair fell down over her face. She brushed it aside and did her best to wipe her eyes before opening them and staring at his feet. She couldn’t look up, she daren’t; she already knew the look that would be on his face. She just sat there, broken with her eyes fixed on his shoes, waiting for his hypnotic voice once again. 

“What a mess… You’re lucky I don’t make you lick it up. Go round the back of the building and take a shower, you filthy little cunt.”

She staggered to her feet and out of her room, not taking her eyes off the floor. The breeze sweeping through the building chilled her, and she wrapped her arms around her wet naked body. She had not felt clean for days. The dirt was ingrained into her knees from all the crawling, and the piss had washed away some of the sweat and dust covering the rest of her body. A shower would help make her feel a little more human again.

She carefully made her way round to the back of the building where a showerhead affixed to a bare copper pipe jutted from the wall. A single tap controlled the flow of water - she turned it on and the pipe spluttered before releasing a slow flow of cold water. She turned the tap further but it did nothing. Desperately she looked around for some way to heat the water, but there was nothing. She stood there, in the filth and stench that clung to her body… She had no choice. Taking a deep breath she stepped into the freezing stream. 

The water washed over her, stabbing cold prickling over her entire body. She tried to wash as fast as she could, running her hands through her hair to wash away the urine. She convulsed and shivered, wrapping her arms around her body in an attempt to find some warmth. Her hands found their way between her legs to try and warm up. She tried to take her mind off the cold, filling her head with thoughts of what Sylar might do to her when she got back. She closed her eyes to images of him towering over her, fucking her mouth until she gagged with tears streaming from her eyes, calling her his whore and owning her. Her hands absent-mindedly began to slide up her thighs towards her pussy.

In her imagination he had her on her back and was holding her by the throat as he shoved his cock deeper and deeper in to her pussy. She was becoming numb to the water and everything else around her as his hands tightened on her neck, fingernails digging into her hips as he thrust harder and harder, his intense gaze burning into her eyes. She lost herself in her fantasies as her fingers slipped into her glistening wet pussy. The warmth of the sensation rippled through her body as she rubbed harder and faster, moaning and whimpering as she pleasured herself. Harder and faster she fucked herself, water streaming down over her shivering body. She needed this so badly and it felt so good, she didn’t want it to end…

The water stopped. She came back to reality with a drop, opening her eyes to see herself face to face with Sylar. She looked back in horror, realizing her fingers were still buried deep inside herself. She quickly pulled them out, but it was too late. His hand was around her neck, knocking her forcefully back into the wall with a thud. 

“Oh dear, Claire, looks like you fucked up…”


End file.
